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[Firefang]

The stars above have never been kind; part of her wonders now if they gleam so brightly overhead only to mock them now - only to mock her. Too much has changed since the eve of her warriors ceremony and truly she should be used to it, there were so little constants in her life but it felt like now she'd blinked and suddenly she was thrust into a world that had left her behind. Weaselclaw was dead, so was Snailstride and Badgermoon may as well be. She hadn't uttered a word to her brothers in moons and her mother was as elusive as the fleeting love she may have once held for her daughter. The one distraction she truly had her one real prerogative and what kept her sane was the training of her apprentice but he was no longer a little shadow he was her equal now. She should be proud, happy for his sake but happiness was a commodity in these days and Firefang wasn't the type to hide her frustrations with a smile but no longer is she so inclined to spit harassments at her 'lessers' she's just been too preoccupied whenever she wasn't patrolling, fighting, or hunting she spent her days wistfully wondering if there was anything she could've done differently, if it would've even mattered.

For all she knew Badgermoon had always been a conspiring snake wearing a happy grin a master of manipulation no one saw coming, he had been her final mentor the one who'd actually tried with her and it makes her sick whenever her mind reminds her of his words and gentle coaxing. She fears what his reputation may have done to her own, so she's kept her head down dutifully agreed to every word and order said nothing at all - like anything had really changed. She would still follow Sootstar into a collapsing tunnel if she ordered it, that had never changed her loyalty was unflinching. She wouldn't question - she couldn't. Badgermoon had made his choice knowing he'd lose cats who meant far greater to him then her - she wasn't anything of importance. She didn't care. He'd pay for his sins one day but she hopes they do not meet again - if not for his sake then her own.

There is nothing she could've done for Weaselclaw, merely hiss at the stars for their cruelty and watch from the sidelines painfully as his family mourned. And what of Snailstride? They hated her anyway, she'd made sure of it and he'd take his ire with him to the grave. She wouldn't have sought his forgiveness anyway but she took no pleasure in watching him be buried. They were never quiet friends and they never would be now.

Lately she doesn't feel the panging of her stomach, even if prey was plentiful she had little appetite to begin with and what little she craved she was willing to sacrifice to those who needed it more. if there was one thing she was it was a survivor for better or worse, she was born to fight until she couldn't anymore and she doubted such a thing like sickness or hunger would be her end. Still she's affected even if she won't show it, she looks tired her eyes more sunken in as the days pass - yet as hollow as they may be there is still that unmistakable spark a flame that couldn't be quelled. Like a trapped fox she was only buying time, she still had a ravenousness to her still had fight and she knew sooner rather then later she'd have a chance to gnash her teeth and wet her claws with the ichor of victory. For Windclans honor - for her own.

But today wasn't that day. She never idles for long, always impatient to get out camp. Her tail twitches behind her impatiently as she looks around her peripherals trying to see who was around. With a breath the dark furred warrior would let out a loud meow ❝I'm goin' huntin'!❞ she starts, she had debated just going alone but while she is confident in her abilities to fight off any intruders if they ran into them she supposes it'd be beneficial to have extra muscle if it comes down to that. ❝Long as ya dun' annoy me I can care less who comes along❞ she's sure some of the apprentices would be without mentors, Starclan above it felt like they had more sick cats then healthy cats. Not counting their dead...
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( ✦ )

 

[Gooseberry]

Gooseberry isn’t what you’d call a sociable cat, not by a long shot. No family to speak of but himself, as his parents has both went their separate ways long ago. No friends either, at least not any cat he would consider close enough to be one. And that was fine with him. Maybe one day he’d get his own apprentice, and he would be forced to have some sort of bond. But that day is not today. He was fine with his status of being muscle in a clan that was mostly comprised of those who could run fast or are self sacrificing enough to dwell in the tunnels.

He does not envy Firefang’s position, now that her mentor had willingly left WindClan behind. It was not her fault that Badgermoon turned traitor, decided that his family meant nothing to him. He can’t picture how someone could come to that conclusion, even though his own had done the same thing. He sees how her family is also distant with her, and he feels a pang of sorrow for the younger cat. He is not one to say his feelings out loud, however.

“I shall join you,” Gooseberry offers. The clan desperately needs to find more prey, with how low the pile has consistently stayed. And with his large size, he’s certain he can take down any rogues that might cross their path.​

 

[FOGBOUND]

your entire existence gives me a headache, go stand over there .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

It was always dull in WindClan, but Fogbound didn’t seem to care, not when he had cats to bother and bicker with, but now he couldn’t help the blossoming anger just a tick away from exploding out. He bit back a sigh, lapping at a pesky piece of fur when he caught wind of Firefang’s words.

Fogbound stretched, back dipping in an elegant curve, making his spine visible against the smother of albino and smokey fur. “I shall accompany you.” He hummed, padding up to the moor runner with a curious glint of ruby optics in Gooseberry’s direction, before resting them on the younger warrior. “Perhaps luck will be on our side.” He rumbled, inspecting a curled claw, nose crinkling. ​

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thought speech​

 

[icebreath]

Firefang has never been an open book, especially not with Icebreath, but grief has clearly changed her. And who can blame her? WindClan has suffered so many losses, even before the epidemic, and things continue to worsen with each passing day. If Icebreath is still thinking about Snailstride and Badgermoon, it must be so much worse for Firefang. She'd been good friends with the former, hadn't she? Even if they had been on poor terms by the end of their denmate's life. If anything, that would make her feel infinitely worse about everything if she were in Firefang's place.

And Badgermoon... how heartbreaking his betrayal must have been, as his former apprentice. How humiliating. If they didn't know Firefang so well, they'd have half a mind to feel suspicion toward her, the recipient of his teachings and ideology day in and day out for such a large chunk of her life. Even so, Icebreath holds onto their faith in their friend's loyalty; Sootstar had trusted her to train her own son so soon after her own warrior ceremony (something Icebreath herself had ultimately failed to do), and Firefang is known throughout the clan for her dogged loyalty to their leader. She chooses not to think about the fact that Badgermoon was, too, until he suddenly wasn't.

They've done their best to be a supportive presence in Firefang's life throughout all of this hardship, although it's often hard to find words that feel right. They hope their company is enough, even if it sometimes feels fleeting with their different lines of work and how dedicated each of them are to their respective fields, working so tirelessly to fill the growing void. At least they have the nights together, their nests side by side, though that's been taken away from them now that she's on bed rest in the medicine den.

"Good luck," they call from where they lay outside Wolfsong's tunnel, confined to the camp until their swollen paw recovers. Not that she ever feels very useful hunting above ground. She's capable of it, yes, but it always feels so awkward and wrong, especially in the sometimes blinding light of day. The words are directed toward everyone who's going, but her gaze largely remains fixed on Firefang.
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